On the third day, my mom forced me to eat grits and eggs... I even told the dumb B, it was going to give me dry socket, and boom, sure enough, fucking dry socket. Then she told me I was delusional, and made me wait 48 hours before she took me in to the surgeon. It took him one second to see it was dry socket, and another second to fill it back up with solution and puddy, and it was instant relief. I never forgave her for that shit.